by Dante King
It took a moment for it to materialize into a full realization though. I was sure we had to stay the hell away from the light, but the lead skeleton stepped into its center before I could issue a mental command.
Chapter Twenty-Four
I felt it coming before I heard it, a subtle rush of cool air coming up the passage from the inky darkness below. And the second I felt it, I hurled myself down, squeezing my body as tightly as I could into the corner at the intersection of the floor and the wall. Then, I heard it: a twanging blast crashing through the passage. The instant I hit the ground, the projectile came tearing up the slope: a giant stone ball, launched from a powerful spring below.
I was only just able to avoid it, and the gigantic ball, its six-foot diameter almost the same width as the passage, came rushing past me like a galloping horse, obliterating my skeletons in the blink of an eye. As the shattered bone fragments of what used to be my skeletons came falling to the ground, the speeding ball was beginning to decelerate, until it finally came to a stop at the top of the slope.
“And now for fuckin’ part two,” I muttered, pressing myself tighter into the corner as the ball began rolling back down the slope, picking up momentum at a terrifying pace.
It tore past me with a rush of cold wind, missing my body by a hair’s breadth. It thundered down the slope until it finally crashed to a halt at the bottom with an impact that shook the floor and walls I lay pressed against.
“A light trigger,” I grunted as I jumped up onto my feet and dusted myself off. “A fucking light trigger. One of the rarest triggers… and one of the deadliest.”
I had to admit, even though this trap had destroyed my skeletons, I couldn’t help getting some kind of kick out of the expert design of the whole thing. I’d always heard about light triggers and how only the very best trapmakers were able to construct them. And I’d always wanted to see one, just for the challenge of overcoming it, and now I had. Even though I hadn’t exactly used my wits to survive the trap, the bottom line was that I had come up against a light trigger trap and survived. Another one to add to my list.
Now that it was disarmed, I made my way down to the bottom of the incline with a bit less worry dogging me. I was still extremely aware of my surroundings, of course, but I knew that it wasn’t too likely that there were any more traps in this section.
I got to the bottom and found the boulder, which had come to rest in the entrance of the tunnel—the barrel of the weapon, rather—from which it had been launched. The passage led off to the right here, and to a door, that bore the tornado sigil of Xayon. This was it; I had arrived.
I took out my trap probe and my lock-picking kit and knelt down to face the keyhole. I had no doubt that the door was trapped, and my initial tests with the probe proved this. I got to work disarming the trap, a job that took a few minutes because of the complexity of the trap trigger, but eventually, I neutralized it. After that, I got to work on the lock mechanism, which was equally complex. Still cautious, I opened the door and stepped through it.
I found myself at the top of a broad staircase that led down to a large hall with a vaulted ceiling, supported by stylized stone columns carved in the shape of tornados and lined with marble statues of heroes of past ages who had fought for the Wind Goddess. At the very end of the hall was an ornate altar, also carved from marble, and on the wall behind it was a carving that depicted Xayon driving her cloud chariot, pulled by the Four Winds, in the form of four mighty horses.
It would have been tempting to run across the hall straight to the altar, upon which a number of interesting objects glittered invitingly, but I was no amateur at this game. Instead, I crept down the stairs, testing each step for signs that it might be a pressure switch and keeping my eyes and ears peeled for any hints of trap triggers.
I made it down onto the floor, and again I tested the stone tiles. Finally confident that I found myself in a trap-less space, I decided to go call the others. Perhaps it did make sense for what seemed to be the heart of the temple to not house anything that might risk destroying these priceless works of religious art: better to have powerful booby traps on the way down only. As I went back up, I was reassured that I’d cleared both the temple and the entire way there of all dangers. I wondered what the gang would have to say about my discovery.
Cranton was in complete awe of the main chamber, while Rami was overcome with an almost religious fervor. She dropped to her knees in front of the altar and said a prayer to Xayon.
“This is indeed—or rather, it was—the Great Temple of Xayon,” she said when she stood up. “This place was only spoken of in legend… I never dreamed I’d see it with my own eyes. Here I am, though. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you for this, Vance.”
I winked. “We’ll have a chat about that when this is all over. Now, let’s check out what’s on the altar. Those objects have to be items connected to Xayon.”
“There is one thing the legends mention about this temple, though,” Rami said warily. “The statues that line the hall are called Sentinels. It is said that they can come to life.”
“Then we probably shouldn’t touch them,” I said, “and we definitely shouldn’t—oh, shit!”
Behind Rami, I saw Cranton prying an ornate dagger out of one of the statues’ hands. It was a life-sized statue of what looked like an enjarta assassin.
“Cranton!” I yelled. “What the hell did I tell you about touching shiny things in crypts?!”
“I just wanted a nice dagger like yours,” he said, looking sheepish, the dagger now in his hands. “I’ll, uh, put it back.”
I was furious, but what had just been done could not be undone, and all we could do was try to deal with the consequences.
“Maybe the legends were wrong,” Rami said hopefully. “Maybe the Sentinels are just lifeless statues, unable to do anything except look menacing. Maybe—”
A puff of dust shot out from the statue’s empty hand, and its fingers started to move. Cranton looked up at the statue in terror, his crossed eyes almost popping out of their sockets.
“Oh, shit,” he murmured. “I shouldn’t have done that… I really, really shouldn’t have done that…”
Another puff of dust shot out of the statue’s shoulder joint, and then its arm began to move. Two more little clouds of dust burst from its ankles, then a rain of dust fell on Cranton as the statue’s eyes opened. Its eyes were plain white, like the rest of it, but they glowed with a bright light, as if the marble was transparent and a fire was burning just behind the thin layer of stone in each of its eye sockets.
“This is not good, this is really, really not good, no, nope, not good at all,” Cranton whimpered as the statue raised one of its legs from its plinth and jumped off it, landing on the stone floor with an impact that rippled through the room.
“Cranton, get the hell out of there before that thing snaps you like a twig!” I yelled as I sprinted across the chamber. Unfortunately, Cranton was rooted to the spot with fear.
More puffs of dust began erupting from the other statues’ joints as they too started coming to life. Cranton had said it all: this was not good, nope, not good at all.
The statue of the assassin stared with its glowing eyes at Cranton and cocked its arm for a punch. A blow from a stone fist like that would be like getting smashed in the face with a mace, and I wasn’t about to let Cranton’s head get caved in like an overripe pumpkin. I dived and tackled Cranton just as the statue’s fist tore through the air where his head had been a split second earlier.
We hit the ground hard, but I managed to come up out of the roll and spring to my feet, with Grave Oath in my hand as I positioned myself between Cranton and the statue. He, meanwhile, lay on the ground gasping for breath; the tackle had knocked the air out of his lungs, and he wasn’t someone who was used to taking hits—of the physical kind, at least.
“Shit, how the hell do I fight a fucking statue?” I muttered to myself as the Sentinel stomped toward me. “It’s no
t as if I carry a damn hammer and chisel around with me!”
The statue took a swing at my head with its stone fist. It was a clumsy blow, and the Sentinel wasn’t able to move nearly as quickly as a living warrior. But what it lacked in speed it made up for in power. I ducked under the right hook and darted up under it, shooting Grave Oath up in a stabbing attack that would have driven the blade through a man’s head via the flesh under his chin.
It was a lethal blow, guaranteed—except that it was useless against an enemy made entirely of marble. Grave Oath’s point glanced harmlessly off the stone, and all I could do was dive and roll to the side, evading a hammer-fist blow the statue drove down toward my head, as I cursed under my breath at the possible damage to my precious weapon. But I had to finish the job. I aimed a cut at the statue’s knee, which, again, would have done severe damage to a living opponent. Against this assassin of marble, though, it was next to useless.
Alongside me, Elyse was doing her best to fight off a statue of a knight in full plate armor, using her ropes of light to try to bind her enemy’s arms. The statue was immensely strong though, and it kept ripping its arms free of the ropes and swinging its sword at her. Rami, meanwhile, was engaged in a furious fight with a female statue in the armor of a northern barbarian, while Sarge and the skeletal warriors ganged up on two more statues, and my zombie Crusaders battled three others.
I dodged two more punches from the assassin and then dived through a gap between its legs and tried to trip it up and bring it crashing to the ground. It was an attack that would have upended even a bear of a man, but the statue didn’t budge. I had to pull a quick roll to avoid being stomped on.
“Isu!” I yelled out as I dodged another swipe from the statue, “a little help here! What do we do to fight these damn things?!”
“Ooh, what’s this?” Isu asked from the top of the stairs, well away from the action, her arms folded across her chest and her lips curled into a haughty sneer. “The God of Death needs the help of a lowly necromancer, does he?”
“Cut the crap and tell me how to fight these fucking things!” I shouted, jumping back to avoid a vicious frontal kick.
“Give me your word that you’ll owe me a favor,” Isu said, “and I’ll help you.”
“Damn it, Isu!” I yelled. “Now is not the time to try to strike bargains with me!”
“It seems like exactly the right time to me.”
I ducked under two more savage punches. I didn’t have much of a choice here. She got me.
“Fine! You have my word that I owe you a favor if you help me out. Satisfied?”
“You’ll have my help now, Vance,” Isu said, “and I’ll expect yours when I ask it of you.”
“Fine, fine. You have my word, now do something!”
“What is Death’s greatest ally?” she asked as she began to walk calmly down the stairs toward the chaotic skirmish raging in the chamber.
“What the hell are you doing?” I yelled. “This is not the time for riddles; this is the time for answers!”
“Time, Vance. Time is Death’s greatest ally, for time never fails to deliver to Death what is owed. Time is the enemy of all living things, for they cannot fight it, they cannot defeat it… and it brings Death closer and closer, constantly. Time and Death are the most powerful allies. But Time, Vance, is not only an enemy to the living but also to the non-living, for it destroys and breaks down non-living things as surely as it brings aging and rot to living beings. So, when you are fighting something non-living, like stone, you need an ally who is able to bring destruction to that thing. An ally like Time.”
As Isu spoke, I ducked under another swing, dodged another kick, and jumped up and stabbed Grave Oath right into the statue’s glowing eye, hoping that might be its weak point. It wasn’t, and the blade glanced off without doing an iota of damage.
“Well, it’s very clear that we don’t have time on our side!” I growled. “Sure, in a million years, these statues will be nothing but dust, but so will we! And we’re talking about minutes and seconds here, dammit!”
“Ah, but you do have Time on your side now,” Isu purred as she walked up to the statue. “The Mist of Time…”
She stood in front of the statue and breathed out a cloud of mist that engulfed it. Then she stepped back. As the mist dissipated, I saw cracks start to appear across the statue. It staggered forward and lunged at me, but this time when I dodged the blow, one of the statue’s fingers flew off. I darted in under its arm and aimed a stabbing attack at its chest, and my blade ripped out a large chunk of marble. The Sentinel staggered back, and I pressed my advantage, darting in and stabbing it again, removing a fist-sized chunk of stone from its torso.
“Yes!” I snarled, ducking under a clumsy left hook that resulted in the statue’s entire left forearm flying off and smashing into shards on the floor. “Time really is on our side now!”
Isu moved around the room, blowing her magical Mist of Time onto each of the Sentinels. As soon as the magic took hold, the tide of the fight turned. Chunks of marble were flying everywhere, and my troops were beating the statues back, chopping them to pieces. Elyse was ripping off arms, legs, and heads with her ropes, while Rami was using her sais like chisels. Sarge and the skeletons were hacking merrily way at the other statues, lopping off limbs and heads, while the zombie Crusaders were using their longswords and tower shields to pulverize them.
“Yeah!” Cranton yelled from the floor. “Get those stone-assed sons of bitches!”
The assassin statue staggered back under the ferocity of my attacks. Every time Grave Oath bit into the marble, another chunk of stone was ripped out, and I eventually managed to land a heavy horizontal stab in its ear. By this time, the marble was so weak that my blade split it in half, dividing its front from its back. The two halves of the statue teetered for a moment before they toppled. With a boom, both halves hit the floor, and the entire statue exploded into a mess of dust and little chunks of stone.
Statues fell all around us until my Crusaders finally killed the last one. A cloud of dust hung in the air, and all of us spent a few moments coughing and staggering around until it finally settled.
“Thank you, Isu,” I said, somewhat grudgingly.
“Remember what you promised,” she said, a glint in her auburn eyes. “When it’s time for me to call in a favor, you gave me your word that you’d do what I asked.”
“I’ll remember that.”
I walked over to the altar, dusting myself off. After everything we’d gone through, it was about time to see exactly what those Sentinels had been protecting in here.
Chapter Twenty-Five
On the altar were just two objects: a pair of shiny silver gauntlets and a kusarigama, a kind of weapon I’d trained with before but never had the privilege of owning. The kusarigama was made entirely of bones, with tiny bones bonded together in links forming the weapon’s long chain, and the sickle section made of larger ones. The sickle blade, though, was made of some sort of black metal. I picked the weapon up, and the instant my fingers touched it, a jolt of power coursed through my body. I gave it a test swing, and its balance was magnificent.
A gasp of shock came from the hall below, and I turned around to see Isu staring in shock at the kusarigama.
“You look surprised to see this, Isu.”
“I am. I last saw this weapon hundreds of years ago, when it was wielded by one of Xayon’s champions.”
“I can feel that it possesses a potent magical power,” I said. “But, strangely enough, I feel like it’s… my magic.”
“That’s because it is. This weapon is imbued with Death magic, as well as a touch of Wind magic. I should know; I forged this weapon myself.”
It was my turn to be surprised.
“Why would you forge a weapon for one of Xayon’s champions?”
“The Wind Goddess and I used to be allies, once,” she said bitterly. “A long, long time ago. But all that… it’s in the past now. Ancient history.”
I turned and saw her examining the gauntlets with a look of awe on her pretty face.
“I never dreamed the day would come when I would look upon these, let alone hold them in my own hands,” she murmured.
I put the kusarigama down and walked over to Rami.
“Mind if I take a look at these?” I asked.
She handed the gauntlets to me, and as soon as my skin touched the gleaming silver, I felt it: a presence. I knew the feeling well by now, from my experience with Isu.
The presence that I felt now was not Isu’s, however. As if an unseen presence was guiding me, I slipped the gauntlets onto my hands. As soon as I did, I heard a woman’s voice in my head. It was faint, though, and muffled, as if she was trying to speak to me through a thick stone wall. I could barely discern what she was saying.
“Excuse me, everyone,” I said quickly. “I need a moment… alone.”
I strode out of the chamber and hiked a short distance through the passage until I was out of earshot of everyone else.
“Who are you?” I demanded.
“I am Xayon,” the voice answered, “Goddess of Wind.”
“I thought so. Well, Xayon, I’m—”
“Lord Vance Chauzec, the new God of Death,” Xayon answered.
“How did you know that?”
“One god knows another,” Xayon said. “You will learn this soon enough.”
“I guess I will. There are plenty of things I still have to learn about being a god. There is something I want to ask, though. Since you’re a god, you’re able to make a friend of mine Fated, right? A devotee of yours. She’s traveled a very long way to find you. What’s left of you, anyway.”
“I cannot, Vance. I’m not strong enough to make any mortal Fated. I need to grow stronger… and I’m not. I’m fading away. I’m almost gone…”
“But you’re talking to me. A part of you is still alive.”